When you heal, the dream becomes real.

Womankind

Scrambling to find the maps hidden in medicine songs we sing in tongues unfamiliar. Earth quaking beneath feat, as if history wants to shake lose the lost notion of itself. Something buried wants to be remembered by us all, and screams through the rumbling, the crumbling of all that seemed so permanent. Firmament sparkling dew drops so few, yet in each one my face a reflection of you. A point on Indra’s Web trying to learn how to read the wind again, a global back turned to spirit fueling hurricaned ends. Canned goods and donations that won’t ever make it to every starving hand, and the band plays a beat to an old familiar tune, until all hears the music of love’s everlasting boon.
Speakers more portable than hearts, and violence more aimed than darts. Landfills filled with more food than carts, and the disenfranchised everywhere homeless in every single part.

And we hurry to remember how to read the sky, before all the generations of lessons slowly fade and fly, as if to some secret place that can no longer be reached, except by rubber bullets, war, and teeth. Peace we say peace, humanity has yet to learn, it seems we have more power than any of us earned. To turn an ecosystem swiftly against itself, we’ve pickeled hearts in jars and put them up on the shelf, so that we may know the contents of blood from microscopic view, and still be left in wondrous awe knowing not what connects me to you.

Can you please play the music that comforts unspeakable woe, wire case ancient reminders to rekindle conscious flow, cosmic net catching light from galactic edge, trimming and expanding mind to make perfectly shaped hedge, but not like foodless and fruitless lawns all across the world, but the kind that kisses vanity until its confusion untwirls, from every single third eye covered so deep in bind, so that where it sees a cage becomes seed of limitless mind.

And how is it that tomorrow still comes when hope is all but gone, and where does forbearance come from when one fiber short of strong, and who can we count on when the walk is just too long, and who orchestrated such beauty played on my inner ear as song.

Something so unspeakable, but see here she shines, it’s the arrival of the Divine Feminine to free womankind.